Two Doms

"This is insane," said Nick, "You're being insane about this."

"No I'm not," I said, "I'm being responsible. If anything, it's insane that you're being so cavalier."

"Jesus Christ," Nick muttered, and slumped back in his seat.

Annoyingly, our seats were attached together -- they were those gross little waiting room chairs that all link up like a chain -- so when he slumped back, it jolted my chair too. I scowled and kicked at him, but he saw it coming and jerked his foot out of the way.

"I don't know if you paid attention in health class, and honestly, I would assume not," I said, "But you're supposed to get tested every time you have a sexual encounter. Every time, okay? And that includes, you know, accidents."

"Accidents?" Nick said, "Seemed pretty on purpose."

"Mistakes," I said firmly.

"Mistakes is right," Nick said, "But I told you, dude, I don't have anything."

"And I'm just supposed to believe that?" I said, "Yeah. Right. I'd bet you'd like that. Besides, did it ever occur to you that I might have something?"

Nick laughed, "Not even for a second."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Dude, you sleep in my fucking room," said Nick, "I know you haven't been hooking up."

"Um, okay?" I said, "And what makes you think I didn't hook up back in high school?"

Nick smirked, "Cause the first time you sucked a guy's dick you made him go to the nurse with you."

"What the fuck?" I whispered, frantically looking around the room to see if anyone noticed. Nobody had, not that there were many other people hanging around the campus health clinic that day. Just a sleepy guy in the corner and a bored postgrad behind the front desk, tapping away at his laptop. Still, that was not the type of thing I wanted getting out. I was still getting comfortable with being sorta kinda maybe gay, but I wanted to experiment at least a little bit more before spreading the news around everywhere. And I definitely didn't need anyone knowing I had hooked up with Nick.

The door to the doctor's office opened up and a woman, who was presumably the doctor, poked her head out.

"Dominic Lane?" she said.

We both stood up.

"Here," I said, at the same time as Nick said, "Hey doc."

"Hello, Dom," she smiled warmly at Nick, "It's lovely to see you again."

I scoffed. Not likely.

"I'll just get you to wait outside, honey," she said.

"Actually, I made the appointment," I said, "My name is also Dominic Lane. Or, really, my name is Dominic Lane and his name is also Dominic Lane."

The doctor blinked slowly, "Okay. So... Dom, I'll just get you to wait outside."

"No," I corrected, "The appointment's for both of us."

"I'm sorry, what's going on?" said the doctor.

"He needs a prescription," said Nick, "For brain pills. Because his brain doesn't work."

"Shut up, please, adults are talking," I said.

The doctor sighed, which I noticed people tended to do around us a lot.

"Why don't you both come inside?" she said.

Once we had explained the name thing, and Nick confirmed that he was okay with me sitting in "if it'll shut him up," which I thought was pretty rich considering he was the one who was always yelling at me, the doctor asked what exactly I had made the appointment for. 

Nick looked at me expectantly. 

"Um," I blushed, "Well. I just wanted to. Um. You know. I thought we should, um. Get tested."

She nodded knowingly, "You're concerned you might have a sexually transmitted infection?"

"No!" I flushed red, "Well! I mean! I'm worried that he might have one and he might have. Um."

She waited patiently. I averted my eyes but unfortunately made eye contact with Nick, who was staring at me with a look halfway between pity and disgust.

"Given it to me," I mumbled.

Nick rolled his eyes, "I don't have anything." 

"He says that," I snapped, "But look at him."

Nick scowled, "What the hell are you talking about?"

 "Um, duh! You've been wearing those same shorts for like three days!" I said, "And you wore them to training all three days! That's not hygienic!"

"Dude, you didn't even know how to do laundry until I taught you!" said Nick.

"Oh yeah, and I never could've figured that out," I said.

"Yeah, you fucking couldn't," Nick said, "How much did you spend on fucking drycleaning?"

"Fuck me for supporting the local economy, right?" I said. 

"Okay!" said the doctor, "Dom, why don't you step outside for a bit."

"No!" I snapped, then caught myself, "Sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice at you. I just... he always does this."

"I didn't do anything!" Nick protested. 

"Except give me herpes!" I said.

"*What?*" said Nick. 

"Guys!" the doctor interrupted again. We both shut up, "Honey, Dom doesn't have herpes. You don't have herpes, Dom."

"What?" I said, "You already got tested?" 

"I have to get a full physical every month," Nick muttered, "Cause of the scholarship."

"Huh?" I said, "Why?"

Nick shrugged, "Its just part of it. They wanna know what's going on with my body or whatever. It's whatever."

 "For the disabled athlete scholarship?" I said, "Um, you're disabled and you're an athlete. What else do they need to know?"

"I dunno, man!" said Nick, "It's fine! Y'know, you gotta get drug tested and stuff!"

"Well yeah, obviously youre not meant to be taking steroids," I said, "But why do they need to know the other stuff?"

"They just do!"

"That's so unfair!" I said, "I don't get how it's anybody else's business what's going on with your body!"

Nick gestured wildly around the room, "Then what the fuck are we doing here?"

"Oh," I said. 

"Yeah!" said Nick. 

I slumped back in my seat. I mean, I still felt like I was in the right for wanting Nick to get tested. His dick had been in my mouth, after all. But I kind of hadn't realised that it maybe wasn't super cool of me to insist that he did it in front of me so I could confirm he wasn't lying. Nick was annoying in a lot of ways but if I was totally honest, I didn't really think he was the type to lie about something like that. 

"Sorry," I said quietly, "You can go, if you want."

"Thanks," Nick said sarcastically, "See you later, Doctor Parham."

The doctor stood to open the door, and I heard her say, "Have a nice day, Dom," and then quietly, "Maybe do have a think about your choice of sexual partners."

Nick left, then the doctor sat back down and took a deep breath.

"So!" she clapped her hands together, "Herpes?"

It turned out Nick had not given me herpes. The little red bumps on my thighs, she explained, were because I hadn't taken enough care while shaving. She didn't make a big deal out of me being a guy who shaved his legs, which was good. She also didn't say anything about me wearing panties, but that was because I had been smart and worn a pair of my old boy underwear. I didn't want her getting the wrong idea.

"Now, if you are going to be sexually active with other men, you should take precautions," said Doctor Parham.

"Okay," I said quietly. Something about the way she said it made me feel a bit uncomfortable, but that was silly, wasn't it? I did plan on having sex with men. I mean, I was gay, after all. Wasn't I?

"Do you know what prep is?" she asked.  

"Um," I said, "Like. Um. Taking a shower before?"

She smiled, "Well, that's not a bad idea. But the PrEP I'm talking about is a medication you can take to reduce your risk of contracting HIV through sex."

"Oh," I said. Oh god. I hadn't even thought about that, "Is that likely?"

"Well, it depends on what kind of sex you're having," she said.

"Um," I said, "Well. Um. I've only been with one guy, and, um, we had, um. Oral, um, oral intercourse. And I was, um, the performative, um, the partner who was, um, administering the, um, the intercourse."

God, I was sweating.  But I think I had managed to describe what had happened without being inappropriate and making the doctor uncomfortable. 

Doctor Parham nodded, "And did he cum in your mouth?"

I gasped. I did NOT realise doctors were allowed to say that. "Um! Yes? But I spat it out."

"Good for you," she said, "Well, yes, if you're going to have men cumming in your mouth there is a chance that HIV could be transmitted, if you happened to have an ulcer or a cut in your mouth. And I would strongly advise using a condom if you do plan on having anal sex. But if you and Dom are together and you're not seeing other people--" 

"We are absolutely not together," I said.

"Thank goodness," she said.

I left Doctor Parham's office with a little cup to pee in (better safe than sorry) and a lot to think about. I pondered to myself as I washed my hands in the disgusting public bathroom, with my disgusting little pee cup sitting next to me. I did want to have sex again. I could totally see myself sucking another dick, and, ugh, I could feel myself getting hot at the thought. But it obviously wasn't going to be Nick again, and it wasn't like there was anyone else I was on dick-sucking terms with. So... who?

One of the cubicles opened and I frantically tried to hide my pee cup, but my hand slipped, knocking it off the sink, where it was caught mid air by...

"This your pee?" asked Kermit Tsu.

He was wearing clothes this time, paint-splattered dungarees and heavy work boots. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and my eyes followed the web of intricate tattoos up his arm to his dark eyes. 

"No," I said quickly. God, my cheeks were red hot right now. 

 "Cool," Kermit smirked, "Fuck em."

He tossed me the pee and I fumbled for it, silently thanking god that I had screwed the lid on tightly. Kermit leaned over the sink and started washing his hands.

"Wait, what do you mean?" I asked.

Kermit gave me an odd look, "For a drug test, right? Or you just carrying someone else's pee for fun?"

"Oh, uh," I stammered, "No, it's... it is my pee actually. I just. Got startled."

"Weird. You make art?" he asked.

"Me? Um, no," I said, "No, my dad says artists are, um..."

Kermit looked at me, "Yeah?"

"Um. Degenerates," I finished weakly, "But my mom likes Georgia O'Keefe."

"Uh-huh," he said, "I think I agree more with your dad."

"Oh," I said, "Um, yeah. Exactly."

I had no idea what he meant by that. Kermit began drying his hands and I was struck by a sudden strange fear that he was going to walk off and forget about me.

"I'm kind of the reason you didn't get kicked out," I blurted.

Kermit turned back and raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"I signed the petition. The, um, the ACORN petition," I said, "And my dad's kind of a major donor, so..."

Kermit frowned, "Mm."

"We're not close," I added quickly. 

Kermit didn't say anything to that. I squeezed my pee cup nervously, and inspiration struck. 

"You know they make disabled students take regular physicals to keep their scholarships?" I said, "Like, not just drug tests and stuff, but like, all this different information about their bodies? That's bullshit, right?"

Kermit's eyes narrowed.

"I did know that," he said slowly.

"You did?" I asked.

He reached into a pocket of his dungarees and pulled out his own cup of pee.

"I did," he said, "And it is bullshit."

I don't know why, maybe just because I was on a roll, maybe because it was the first time I had ever felt like a rebel, but before I could stop myself I said, "We should switch pee."

It was an insane thing to suggest, obviously, but then again maybe it wasn't, because Kermit Tsu smirked and said, "Absolutely."

We swapped pee cups, and I felt a little thrill as Kermit's fingers brushed against mine. What was I doing? Was this medical fraud? Was I a criminal now? What had Nick Lane done to me?

"This is praxis," said Kermit.

"For sure," I agreed. I wasn't sure what praxis meant, but Kermit seemed confident.

"You don't make art?" Kermit asked again. 

"Not yet," I said.

"Come by the studio," said Kermit, "I like how you think."

"Oh," I said, "Um. Okay."

"Noon tomorrow," said Kermit, and he tucked my pee into his pocket and walked away.

* * *

"What the fuck?" said Nick.

"I gave him my pee," I said. I still didn't really believe it myself, "I gave Kermit Tsu my pee."

Nick applauded. He wasn't wearing his prosthesis, so he did this by clapping his hand against his chest. It didn't feel any less sarcastic. 

"Way to go, genius!" said Nick, "Your test results are definitely gonna say that you have herpes now! And chlamydia. And they're probably gonna say you were smoking crack. Which you are! You gave him your piss?"

I sighed. I should've expected this kind of reaction, but I needed to tell someone, and it wasn't like I actually cared about Nick's opinion. 

"For your information, it was a praxis," I said.

Nick made a face, "What the fuck is that?"

I rolled my eyes. Typical he wouldn't know.

"It's, like," I hazarded a guess, "It's like an artistic statement."

"Fuck, of course," said Nick, "What, about saving the whales or something? The piss represents oil?"

"The piss is piss," I snapped, "But it was a protest against, you know. Against how you have to take a physical to keep your scholarship."

"Oh, Jesus," Nick groaned, "I do not need fucking you and Kermit Tsu sticking up for me. I'm not a fucking... whale."

"Get over yourself," I laughed, "Like my main concern was how that policy affected you? It's about the principle, okay? Like, the right to privacy. And, like, being in control of what you do with your body."

"Uh-huh," Nick sat on the rolly chair, "That's important to you, right?"

"Duh," I scowled, "I know you think I want the room to myself just because I'm a spoiled rich kid who doesn't know how to share, but believe it or not I have other things going on in my life. Things that I don't want some random stinky jock always in my personal space for."

"No, yeah, fucking totally," Nick scoffed, "You need the whole fucking building to yourself so you can shave your legs. Cause that's such a big fucking deal apparently."

I glared at him, "Maybe it is, alright?"

Nick threw up his hand, "Fucking watch out everyone! Nick Lane is shaving his fucking legs! Get a fucking SWAT team in here! It's fucking fine, dude. It's normal. Nobody cares if you're gay."

"I'm not gay!" I said, "Necessarily! Shaving my legs doesn't mean I'm gay. Not all gay guys shave their legs, even."

"You also sucked my dick," Nick pointed out.

"We agreed that was a mistake!" I snapped, "God, if I knew you were gonna be so immature about it I wouldn't have done it in the first place."

"Whatever," said Nick.

I huffed and dug into my bag, looking for the lotion I bought on the way home. Doctor Parham had said that moisturizing could help prevent the little red bumps, and I kind of liked the idea of having a skincare routine. I stretched back on the couch, propping a leg up on the arm so I could get to work. I squeezed out a dollop of gel into my palms and rubbed it slowly into my calf, letting out a little huff of exertion as I stretched. I had changed into my pyjamas, so my legs were exposed and free, glistening in the light as I worked in the lotion. I worked at it for a few seconds until I realised that Nick was being uncharacteristically quiet. I turned my head, still stretched out over my leg. Nick was gazing at me, jaw slightly open.

"Hello?" I said, "Can I help you?"

Nick's eyes snapped up guiltily.

"Nothing," he said, which he must've realised made no sense, "I was just thinking."

"Don't hurt yourself," I said. I continued rubbing in the lotion, "What about?"

"About the, uh," his eyes drifted back to my leg again. I squinted at him curiously. What was he looking at? I leaned back, revealing my long, smooth leg unobscured by my body. Nick licked his lips, "About, uh, the ECON 103 assignment."

"Ugh," I groaned, "Did you notice question three..."

"Made no fucking sense?" Nick finished, "Yeah, exactly. The wording was all screwed up. And it's like the third time that's happened."

I giggled. We were both dressed for bed, which of course meant Nick was shirtless, and I could see his chest getting all puffed up as he got mad.

"Yeah! Like, hello, are we not paying enough to get our coursework proofread? Or, you know, hurdling enough?" I sighed, "I know you're willing to put up with whatever, but I actually--"

"I uh, I emailed the department head," Nick winced, "Just to say, y'know. Maybe check up on this."

I gasped, "Yes! Good, Nick! Don't take it from them!"

Nick nervous face relaxed into a smile, "Yeah, I mean. It's uh. It's praxis."

I smiled back at him, "Good for you. Bugging someone besides me for once."

Nick shrugged, "I mean, I work really hard, y'know? My whole life is studying and training and I'm gonna have to get a job soon, and I shouldn't have to be guessing what the fucking assignment is supposed to be about cause they couldn't be bothered to proofread it. I dunno. Some shit you can't change, but... I dunno. Maybe it was a waste of time."

He looked disheartened, hunched in his chair, rubbing his arm unconsciously.

"Hey," I said, "Do you think maybe you could help me with this lotion?"

"Huh?" said Nick.

"I'm, like, new to it," I said, "And I always see you using lotion, so..."

"Oh, yeah," said Nick, "Yeah, I get ashy and shit. And my arm chafes, so, uh. Yeah, I can help."

I passed him the bottle and he carefully squeezed some out onto my leg, then set it aside and started rubbing it into my calf with long, smooth strokes. The pressure felt good on my tired muscles. I didn't realise how much tension I had been holding, but then again it had been a long time since my last massage.

"Is that alright?" Nick asked. He seemed to have perked up a bit, happy to be helping with something. And maybe happy to be touching my leg.

"It feels nice," I said.

"You can, uh, you can just lie back if you want," said Nick, "I got it."

I settled back and got as comfy as possible on that awful couch. Nick lifted my foot with his short arm so he could reach the underside of my calf. It really did feel nice. Back home, we had a massage therapist who would come around every now and then, and Luisa would give my mother massages sometimes too. I closed my eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. It was nice to feel pampered again.

Nick's lotiony hand circled my knee a few times, then hesitated.

"A bit higher, please," I said, "You'll need to do the whole leg."

"Sure," Nick said slowly, "You're, uh. You're really soft."

I frowned, "Thanks?"

Nick kept going, pressing his palm against my thigh, rubbing it with more long, deep strokes. His hand curved around to my inner thigh, gripping my leg possessively. I shivered. If I still had hair on my legs, I'm sure it would be standing on end. Instead my skin was smooth and clear, with nothing in the way to stop Nick's hand travelling further and further up my thigh. He reached the hem of my little shorts and my breath hitched, waiting to see what he would do. His hand slid back down and curved again around the back of my thigh. The heel of his hand sank into me, pushing through knots and making my muscles quiver.

My shorts were so short, and as I lay back on the couch they had ridden up even further. Nick was carefully avoiding slipping under the hem, but his hand was already so much higher than it ever really should be. He was touching areas that might not have been sexual, but were certainly private. I kept my eyes shut tight, breathing quietly so as not to disturb the strange tension that I was feeling. I was so exposed, my body laid out for Nick to enjoy. No. For Nick to service. Nick paused to apply more lotion, and I bit my lip as he brought his hand back to my inner thigh and pressed slowly further upwards, up and up and up, to the hem of my shorts, and the back of his fingers brushed the fabric as he continued even further.

"Good boy," I whispered.

Nick's hand pressed against the bumpy, sensitive skin I had been so worried about before. The skin felt so hot, and he soothed it with his strong hand and the cool lotion. But there was a deeper heat, between my legs and in my tummy, and it kept me pinned to the couch as Nick's hand moved further still, squeezing my soft flesh, until his fingers met the crease where my leg met my body. I moaned, and then reality hit me and I froze. I had gotten carried away in the feeling of being massaged, and didn't realise the situation I had caught myself in. The back of Nick's fingers pressed gently between my legs, and now that he was touching me there I could feel how hard I was, my little member straining against my panties. I tensed. Oh god, the embarrassment of him knowing I was turned on was bad enough. I just prayed he didn't realise what I was wearing.

I opened my eyes slowly, fearing I would see Nick glaring at me, face twisted in disgust at my sick perversion. Instead, he was smirking.

"You like how that feels, don't you?" he said.

I narrowed my eyes. There was a distinct note of cockiness in his voice, a smugness, pride that he had turned me on with his tender hand. I didn't like it.

"Don't think you're getting a repeat of the other night," I said.

Nick scoffed, "Obviously. As if I would even want that."

I wiggled my toes, "And don't forget the other leg."

"Yeah, yeah," said Nick. He withdrew his hand from my shorts and started working on my other leg, rolling his eyes as if he was only doing this out of some begrudging obligation. Maybe I would've believed him, but I was lying back, which meant I was about eye level with his crotch, and he was hard as a rock. I smirked. You wish, dummy. I might be gay, maybe, and I might even be a little horny right now, but there were plenty of other dicks on campus to explore before I sank to debasing myself with Nick's. Even if it was pretty nice.

"You said Kermit invited you to his studio, right?" said Nick, "Do you think Miel will be there?"

I frowned, "I don't know. Maybe. Why?"

"Maybe I should come by after practice," said Nick, "Say hi."

I scowled, "To Miel? She probably won't even be there. And she's so annoying."

"I think she's cool," said Nick.

"Well she's not," I said, "And you're supposed to be focusing on me. On the lotion I mean,"

Nick slips his hand around the back of my calf, "Jesus, dude. Why so sensitive? You're worried I'm gonna catch you and Kermit smoking crack together?"

"Oh my god, why are you obsessed with crack?" I said, "And no, I just don't want you following me around all the time. And I definitely don't want you bringing Miel over to hang out in my room."

"My room," said Nick, "And they might not be smoking crack, but they're artists in college, Nick. They're gonna be smoking something. Don't freak out and call the cops if you see a joint."

"Maybe I should," I lean back and sigh as Nick's hand slides onto my thigh, "That would get rid of him, at least."

Nick's hand stops, "Holy shit."

"What?" I say, "I didn't say stop."

"Nick, that would get rid of him," says Nick, "I mean don't call the cops, obviously. But if you got, I dunno, if you got proof of him breaking campus rules, or painting another professor fucking a goat or something, he would lose his scholarship for sure."

I sat up, eyes wide, "But he wouldn't do something like that in front of a stranger, would he?"

"You said it yourself, you're the one who stopped him getting kicked out last time, great fucking job by the way," said Nick, "And even better, you're a weird freak who throws piss around. He has no idea you're a total narc."

"So I can catch him," I said, "And get my room back."

"My room, but yeah," said Nick. He stroked my leg harder, deeper, greedy fingers already stealing up beneath my clothes, flirting with the hem of my panties, "We gotta stand up for ourselves, right?"

"We study so hard and we're at training every day," I said, staring gleefully into his dark eyes, "And he's gallivanting around? Smoking weed and slash or crack? And we get punished?"

Nick shakes his head, grinning wickedly, "Someone needs to teach that little bitch a lesson."

His hand was fully inside my panties now, and either he didn't notice anything was off or he was just too worked up to care. He squeezed my ass, thumb rubbing circles against my cheek.

I giggled, "Show that little bitch who's boss."

"Selfish little bitch," Nick growled.

"Arrogant little bitch," I agreed.

"Stuck-up little bitch," Nick grunted, and my eyes fell back to his crotch, where his raging cock was straining against his sweats.

"Horny little bitch," I hissed, then locked up at Nick's dark eyes, "You know, I'm not talking about Kermit Tsu."

"No shit," Nick growled.

"Pants off now," I said.

Nick was on his feet in an instant, already stepping out of his sweatpants. He wasn't wearing anything underneath, and his thick cock stood hard and heavy between his thighs.

"Lotion," I gasped, and he passed me the bottle and clambered onto the couch, leaning over me, hand already darting back into my panties, shamelessly groping at my ass. I frantically squeezed lotion into my palms and grasped for his big, hard cock. Nick hissed and hunched forward, his sweaty forehead pressing against mine.

"You like that?" he growled, "You like that cock?"

"Obviously," I said, "I wouldn't be touching it if I didn't like it, idiot."

My hands wrapped tightly around Nick's cock and I began to pump, quickly, my hands slippery with lotion sliding up and down his shaft. Long, deep strokes. Pump pump pump.

"Not so fast," Nick gasped, digging his fingers into my cheek. I giggled and stoked faster. Pump pump pump!

"Little bitch," I hissed, "Horny little bitch. Getting all hard feeling up my legs. You like my sexy legs, little bitch?"

"Slower, Nick, fuck," Nick gasped, "Fucking, ah, take this fucking cock..."

I giggled and slipped a hand down the front of my shorts, rubbing myself through my panties. Nick closed his eyes, biting his lip, but I was confident just one of my hands would be more than enough to bring him to climax. I squeezed my thighs tight around my other hand, feeling the heat rise in my tummy as I stroked and petted my own little cock, cupping the shaft, fingers pressing quickly against the sensitive little head. Nick's fingers slipped into the cleft of my ass, sending a spike of arousal through me. His cock throbbed and throbbed. Oh, I could feel it coming, an orgasm was rushing towards me, and in the heat and the pounding of my heart and the gasping of Nick's frantic breath, I couldn't even tell if it was his or mine.

Pump pump pump pump pump--

"Fuck!" Nick cried out, and I giggled and twisted to the side, my own orgasm cresting in a hot little gush in my panties, while Nick's big thick cock shot once, twice, splattering the couch cushions with his seed. His arm folded up, his hand still squeezing weakly at my ass, and he collapsed on top of me, pressing me into the couch, a sweaty, panting mess.

That was two points in the gay column, and oh my god that felt good.

We lay there for a while, a tangle of slippery, sweaty limbs, until Nick caught his breath enough to sit up. I turned my head to survey the damage, and my heart sank.

The couch cushions were ruined. There was sweat and lotion all over them, not to mention a big splatter of Nick's cum.

"Oh, Nick!" I whined, "Look what you did, you stupid jerk! I have to sleep here tonight!"

"Oh, fuck," said Nick, "Sorry."

"Ughhhh," I put my head in my hands, "I'm gonna have to strip off the cushion covers and take them to the laundry, which means I'm gonna have to get dressed again and ugh! Why did you have to get so horny, Nick!"

"You're the one who made me massage your legs!" Nick protested.

"So this is your revenge?" I snapped. I got off the couch and stormed for the bathroom, "I need to clean up so I can deal with your stupid cum on my pillows."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," said Nick, "Just sleep in the fucking bed with me, alright?"

I turned, "What?"

Nick shrugged, "I mean, what the fuck are we even bothering with the couch. It fucking sucks. It fucks my back up every time. We're adults, right? We can handle sharing a bed."

I pursed my lips, "Fine."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. The couch sucks," I pointed a finger warningly, "But don't try to cuddle me or anything."

"I'll try and fucking resist," Nick muttered.

We stripped the cushions anyway and tossed them in the laundry hamper for later, then cleaned up and went to bed. Nick was right, it made more sense. There was plenty of room, and when I rolled onto my side, I could almost forget he was even there.

It had been a very productive day, really. I had a plan to get my room back, I had done a very thorough job moisturizing my legs, and I had another solid piece of evidence that I really did like men. Not too bad at all.

With Nick dozing beside me, I drifted off to a calm and restful sleep.